A Series of One Shots
by sapphire.gd17
Summary: The stories posted here are stand-alone one shots written for The Houses Competition forum. Various characters are featured per round. I'm in Team Slytherin, Year 1. Currently: The Journey Home feat. Sirius Black. Enjoy!
1. Sleeping Through The Ages

**House: Slytherin**

 **Year/Position: Year 1**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: [Speech] "Nothing can be that important."**

 **Word Count: 485**

 ** _A/N_ ~ _Shout-out to maripaz6 and carolare scarletus- my amazing betas_ ~**

* * *

Startled awake, Seamus Finnigan's alarmed cry was instantly stifled by someone clamping his mouth shut. His mind raced as he tried to make sense of the situation when he spotted Neville Longbottom standing over him, shushing him impatiently, turning his panic into confusion. It was still very dark, probably past midnight, and he wondered what in the world was so important that he had to be awake for it.

Prying Neville's sweaty palm from his mouth, he sat up and sighed in annoyance. "What's wrong with you, mate? You gave me a fright!"

"They're gone again!" his roommate hissed at him. "You've got to help me stop them."

"Wha-?" Seamus asked, confused. "Who've gone where?"

"Harry and Ron!" he fretted. "And I bet Hermione's waiting for them in the common room, too."

The poor lad had been stressing about the trio for months now, afraid they'd get into trouble. But with the trouble _he was_ prone to getting into, he should have been stressing about himself.

"Er… why should we be concerned about this?"

"I think they're about to do something dangerous," Neville confided nervously. "We should go and stop them before something bad happens."

Seamus idly waved his concerns away. "You know they always sneak out and stuff. It's their thing. It's probably nothing." Frankly, he never understood Harry Potter's penchant for trouble-making, especially if he had to do it at night when he could be sleeping instead. Oh, Seamus was always up for causing a little trouble now and then, provided it took minimal effort.

"No, you don't understand," Neville insisted. "It's important this time. I don't know how, but I think it has something to do with You-Know-Who."

"Nothing can be that important." Seamus snorted, although he cringed a bit when Neville suddenly mentioned the Dark Lord. "Honestly, he's been dead for years now and even if he isn't, they'd be crazy to go after him." He made a point of lying back down on his four poster bed and arranging the sheets around him so his paranoid friend would take a hint and stop pestering him.

Neville threw his hands up in frustration. "Come on. At the very least, help me prevent them from losing us anymore House Points!"

"You stop them, mate," Seamus yawned loudly. "I believe in you. Now let _me_ rest in peace."

Disgruntled, his friend huffed and finally went out on his own to defend Gryffindor's honor from disgraceful curfew-breakers.

Grumbling about nosy do-gooders, Seamus fell back to sleep, not at all aware about the commotion happening beneath the castle, as the Golden Trio (who left Neville in a body-bind curse somewhere in the common room) saved the Philosopher's Stone, thereby stalling the Dark Lord's second rise to power.

Thus started Seamus Finnigan's long career on sleeping through significant events until he got so tired of missing out that he signed up for Dumbledore's Army years later.

.o.O. END .O.o.


	2. Wishes from a Broken Time

**House:** **Slytherin**

 **Year/Position:** **Year 1**

 **Category:** **Themed (Jealousy)**

 **Prompt:** **[Object] Wishing Well**

 **Word Count:** **3514** **(excluding title and a/n)**

 _ **Beta(s): maripaz6[thanks for giving me ideas for the ending!] and Ella Princess of Animals  
**_

 _ **~Story set on AU, and OOC characters~**_

* * *

 **Wishes from a Broken Time**

Following the well-worn path bathed in moonlight, I trudged towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest and sought my place of solitude. I stopped near the spot covered in thick foliage and muttered a few incantations until the leaves moved aside to reveal a meadow where an ancient wishing well resides.

Drawn by an inexplicable pull, I discovered the enchanted place three years ago, and I've been visiting it as much as I could ever since. It calms me and reassures me that wishes do come true. At the very least, I imagined it to be something that grants wishes to those desperate for it.

But a wish isn't what I'm seeking for today.

Lately, I have a feeling that something's off.

I'm sure it isn't the bitter stares I get after being singled out again as one of the brightest witch in our generation. Although, sometimes I wish our Headmaster isn't so transparent that he holds me in high regard. It's hard enough as it is to cover the fact that he's my adoptive father without him flaunting his favoritism for the entire world to see. Nobody could really confront me on how I'm being given special treatment nor could they even complain about it. They're afraid of him, and rightly so.

It isn't Draco Malfoy's possessiveness, either. I suppose I'm flattered by his attentions. Who wouldn't be, when his family is second only to the Headmaster's wealth and power? I just wish he won't isolate me from my friends too much. And I wish he wouldn't go all macho on all the guys who try to get even a meter closer in my direction. He should learn his place, though, before I get tired of his incessant pursuit of my hand.

No, something's off- more than usual- and I can't place it.

It all started this month. I woke up one morning screaming from a nightmare. I don't even remember what it was but I can still feel the anger and anguish that doesn't belong to me.

Since then, I get this flicker of thoughts- bits and pieces of memories I don't recall having. At one time, I even saw a different face, _a ghastly face_ , in place of my handsome Headmaster.

But that's not all. The strangest thing happened to me today. A stranger's face burned itself into my mind out of nowhere. He has the most beautiful green eyes, messy jet black hair, round glasses and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. I don't recall having seen him in my lifetime and yet, a name, unbidden, bounced around my mind _, w_ hispered by a voice identical to my own. It called the name over and over, enough to make me go crazy.

 _Harry Potter._

Within the confines of my mind, the face smiled and my chest constricted in pain… and longing.

I don't know him and I don't know why the name came to my mind but for some incomprehensible reason, it felt significant.

When I couldn't take it anymore, I snuck out of my lavish private dorm room ( _nothing less for my sweet baby girl,_ my adoptive father insisted), and came here in my secret place to clear my thoughts.

I sighed and felt the night breeze, trying to stop myself from thinking anymore mysterious thoughts and walked mindlessly around the wishing well.

 _Harry Potter-_ again the voice whispered.

Ugh. Maybe I _am_ going crazy.

I guess it's time for me to toss a galleon and wish for my peace of mind. Not that it really grants wishes, mind you, but doing so always gave me comfort. So I moved towards the wishing well, tossed a galleon and caught sight of the stars reflected in its clear, rippling waters. They were so pretty to look at and I leaned in for a better look.

Suddenly the stars moved. Dotted lights began swirling around the wishing well and I heard faint child-like voices singing a verse I knew from a distant vision:

 _Star light, star bright,_

 _The first star I see tonight,_

 _I wish I may, I wish I might,_

 _Have the wish I wish tonight._

The voices grew louder and before I could yank myself away from the well, I was suddenly pulled inside the swirling lights. I became afraid. This was the first time the wishing well did anything out of the ordinary.

Time began to unravel and before I could wrap my head around the frightening event, my reality and that of an alternate timeline converged and collided, igniting a truth long buried in the dark.

Flashes of vision swarmed inside my head in quick succession.

In the vision, I saw myself as a tiny girl, holding the unmistakable, reassuring hands of my biological father. My mother was behind me singing along the nursery rhymes that blasted off a muggle speaker. _Star light, star bright, The first star I see tonight…_

A gasp escaped my lips at the profound realization that what I was seeing were memories. Real memories that I had in what felt like a different time…

…And in that time, I was not an orphan. I was _not_ the girl who lost her parents in a magical accident and had to be taken in by my godfather. It felt like a ton of bricks dropped on my head at the realization that I am _not_ a pureblood.

I struggled to hold onto that memory, willing it into a tangible form that I could keep but the memory faded away and was replaced by another.

I saw myself again as a slightly older girl running along the length of the Hogwarts express, clearly on her first year, looking for a toad named Trevor. She opened a cabin to search for it and recognition flickered in me as I saw the younger version of the man in my head, _Harry Potter,_ sitting with a ginger-haired boy ( _Ronald Weasley_ , I immediately recalled as if I knew them for a long time). They told the alternate Hermione that they haven't seen the toad but Harry flashed her a smile and thanked her for fixing his broken glasses. That day, the young girl was filled with warmth as his smile lingered in her thoughts for the whole trip.

Another flash and I found the alternate me face to face with a troll. She bravely held in a scream and quickly hid inside the girl's loo when she heard a crash. She peeked outside the stall, readying her wand to defend herself, when in came Harry and Ron, like the young knights of old, dueling a monster to save a damsel in distress. That day, as she walked side by side with her new friends, Harry gave her that same smile he gave her on the train and I felt her heart skip a beat, like it was happening to me as well. In the privacy of her bed that night, she swore to protect him like he protected her.

Flashes upon flashes of vision registered in my mind. I saw the great adventures they had together and I felt a strong kinship growing between them. They were each other's strength. They were a family.

Then I noticed her growing more and more attracted to Harry as the memories whooshed by. She treasured every smile, every touch that he bestowed her and sighed about him at night.

I saw her hit puberty and with it came a strong expectation that Harry would notice how she's growing up to become an attractive lady. She started experimenting with beauty products but was teased mercilessly for it. Hurt, she stopped taking care of her appearance and sought his attentions another way.

By now, I knew something terribly wrong is brewing- but I'm not talking about the mad man that keeps on trying to kill Harry. I'm talking about the other me who's fast becoming more emotionally dependent on him and starts obsessing over his attentions.

She started becoming aware of other girls vying for his affection. She experienced the first tinge of possessiveness when a girl attempted to give Harry a love potion. Another bout of jealousy haunted her when a different girl gave him a cloying self-composed poem for Valentine's Day. She began developing an irrational sense of fear that he might leave her for some tramp so she kept a close watch on whom he befriends and discouraged other girls from getting too close to him. She actually felt satisfied when he couldn't find the time to socialize as much because he was so busy dealing with a psychopath who's trying to destroy his life and she felt extra special during the moments when he tells her about everything going on with his life.

The darkness grew when she noticed Harry surreptitiously glancing at a girl named Cho Chang and asked her to the Yule Ball. Her fears came to rest when the girl herself rejected him in favor of another Triwizard champion.

Meanwhile, she kept waiting for him to ask her to the ball, but he never did. She dropped hints his way but he said something that made her realize that he never truly saw her as a woman. So she tried to distance herself from him emotionally so she could save her dwindling pride.

The night of the Yule Ball was the first time she tried looking like a proper lady again and she gloated internally as people gaped at her beauty. In passing, she noted Draco Malfoy, her tormentor in that other time, had nothing to say for a change and she remembered with pride how his eyes gleamed with undisguised longing for an infinitesimal second. Let Harry Potter languish in the knowledge that she was the undisputable belle of the ball on that very hour and he lost his chance to have her in his arms.

She didn't expect Ron to be the one who got jealous at her appearance at the ball with Viktor Krum. So she tried switching strategies and tried to get Harry jealous by giving Ron a chance. Well, the bastard didn't perform well and before they could even start, I saw him sucking face with a girl named Lavender Brown and the other me got so distraught at the missed opportunity.

The vision switched again and I saw the alternate Hermione sitting by the fire in the common room while Harry regaled her and Ron with a story of his first kiss with Cho Chang. I saw her laughing while her heart broke in a thousand pieces.

In her loneliness, she sought Ron's company and they hit it off. Well, he seemed to like her more than she thought, so she used him to make Harry see how wonderful a girlfriend she could be, especially since nothing came off his little tryst with the droll Ravenclaw.

I don't know how much time had passed, but the memories still came, unrelenting.I don't know why the wishing well is showing me all this. I have a horrible premonition that everything I'm seeing right now is somehow tied to my present.

There was another flash of memory and I saw my other self comforting Harry as he shook in anger and fear as he told her how Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord, came back to life. She began to fear, not only for Harry, but also for herself. A muggleborn like her would be hunted like an animal if they didn't defeat him. The gravity of their situation couldn't be denied, so she bravely prepared in secret to help Harry, the Chosen One, defeat the Dark Lord.

When everything turned into an all-out war, Harry, Ron and the alternate Hermione were forced to go on the run, but through it all, she still found the time to treasure every moment she had with him. When Ron abandoned them after a bitter argument, she was left truly and utterly alone with Harry and she cherished those days all the more. She didn't leave him in his most desperate situation, and she felt sure that he would see it and fall in love with her in return.

She was wrong. The next scene took me to the final battle where dozens of felled wizards from both sides littered the bloody castle. The fighting was fierce and brutal and when all seemed lost, Harry emerged victorious. The battle is finally won. I saw the other me crying in relief and caught sight of him. Her heart couldn't contain her happiness as she slowly got up and ran towards him. She was going tell him how she felt all these years, how she loved him and would do anything to keep him happy…

Her steps faltered as she saw Harry ran towards Ginny Weasley instead, gathering the redhead in his arms and looking at her with a love so pure and true. Then he smiled a smile that she hadn't seen before, and her heart was ripped to shreds.

A blackness crept insidiously on the sidelines, waiting for an opportunity to devour.

She saw their lips meet and her world crashed around her. She tried to close her eyes but her body went rigid, making her an unwitting spectator to the start of a happy ever after for the man she loved with a woman that wasn't her.

A tiny spot of darkness found an opening and seeped inside her soul…

Someone tapped her shoulder, startling her awake from the cruel nightmare. Turning her to him, Ron announced his love for her for all to hear and kissed her to the applause of the cheering throng. She pushed him aside gently and told him of his brother's death to stop his disgusting display of affection.

The months that followed after became even worse. Ginny thought that I- I mean, the alternate me- was her best friend and made her maid of honor. Struggling to keep her fury hidden, she accepted. She spent most of her days planning a wedding she's determined to ruin.

Ron remained oblivious to her feelings and proposed to her in public, urged by his family and friends. She stifled the disgust leaking from her face and stoically accepted.

The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly began a very intrusive feature of the two engaged couples, picturing them as the symbol of new beginnings. Excitement buzzed in the air as the public finally moved on from their grief and joined the heroes in a long celebration, marking the upcoming double wedding as a historical turn towards the Golden Era.

Little do they know that Hermione felt pushed into a corner, furious at the adoring, coercive public that depended on her happiness as a drug to their own sad life.

Another flash and I saw that other version of myself as she cried bitterly inside her lavish bedroom, the Order of Merlin First Class plaque lay broken at her feet. She was clutching a framed picture of her and Harry until her tears dried out. Finally, she stopped sobbing, seemingly getting her bearings together, when a bubble of hysterical laughter escaped her lips … while bashing the photograph over and over the wall.

There was another flash of memory… but this time, it wasn't as clear as the memories I saw before. It was dimmed by what looks like a blackened fog but I could still make out my other self in an unfamiliar library, feverishly turning pages upon pages of books on dark magic. When she found what she was seeking, she cackled in glee, ripped out the page and strode out purposefully out the door.

My heart is nearly bursting in apprehension as I saw the final memory flash before my eyes.

I saw her in the very same place I am now- inside the meadow where the wishing well resides. She caught the stars twinkling inside its depths then softly began singing the very same verse I heard my mother sing:

 _Star light, star bright,_

 _The first star I see tonight,_

 _I wish I may, I wish I might,_

 _Have the wish I wish tonight._

Then she laughed bitterly and muttered under her breath, "I even sacrificed my parent's memory of me for you, Harry… I wish I hadn't even met you. I wish Ron and Ginny were never born. I wish I were a pureblood." And in a louder, hate-filled voice she cried, "I wish for time to turn back so I could warn Tom Riddle… I'll make him condemn their existence and avenge my sorrow…"

And with her declarations came a darkness so overwhelming and she succumbed… the darkness taking me with her.

I woke up with sweat lining my brows. I'm still inside the meadow lying beside the wishing well.

Shocked to find the morning sun peeking through the trees, I hurriedly got up and sprinted towards the castle. Tardiness isn't tolerated in my Advanced Dark Arts class and even if I have the favor of the Headmaster, Professor Snape would still find ways to mock me since he's jealous about my abilities to keep up with him.

In my hurry, I bumped into someone and crashed on the ground. I clung to the hand stretched out to help me up and I was startled to see the Headmaster smiling at me.

Then his face changed from the handsome man I knew him to be… into a noseless, bald, snake-faced monster and I gasped in fright.

"Are you alright, my child?" he asked me in a gentle tone but I can hear a slight hiss in his voice.

Suddenly, everything the wishing well revealed to me came crashing down on me and I grew pale with horror. I remembered who I was... and I remembered the man standing before me.

Headmaster Tom Riddle… _Lord Voldemort_.

I held in my composure and immediately warded my mind.

"I… I'm fine, thank you," I replied, trying not to sound strained.

He narrowed his eyes at me. Then leaning closer, he whispered in my ear, "You can still call me father in private, you know?"

I felt like puking but I grinned conspiratorially and he laughed with me. He patted my head and left me to my devices.

I ignored the jealous stares of my schoolmates as I looked around like it was my first time seeing Hogwarts.

Gone were the banners of the Founders, replaced by the dark flags etched with skulls and serpents. All around me I see the children of Death Eaters, and my Death Eater Professors.

 _Harry Potter._

My heart constricts at the name bouncing inside my head and I hurry to the library. I spend all day trying to look for signs that he is alive, to see if I can see him somehow… but there's no record of him anywhere. The Potters, Weasleys and even the Longbottoms were not in any magical registry in England nor abroad. It's like they vanished without a trace.

My heart jolts in pain when I remembered my parents in my renewed memories. I know in my heart that I am not a pureblood, unlike how my adoptive father paraded me to be. They are, without a doubt, been wiped out during The Purge. I remembered a lecture in Mudblood Studies that The Purge started the year after I was born and that muggles and mudbloods alike are facing extinction. I was one of those who celebrated the ' _great achievement'_.

I now understand why the Headmaster tries so hard to keep me happy. Without me, he couldn't have thwarted the prophecy. Without me, he couldn't have ushered the Dark Ages.

My head swam at the magnitude of my actions, and for what?

The green-eyed monster, vicious and ugly, owned me. It consumed my past and became my present. I condemned millions of wizards and muggles alike and laid it at its altar… a costly price for a choice spurred by a heart taken over by jealousy.

Yet, I can only think of one thing.

Did they suffer?

They must have, for my sake; they must have suffered for the jealous whims of a heartbroken teenage girl. I destroyed their lives for my own petty revenge, and now that I have all I thought I ever wanted, I realize it was all for naught.

And now that I know how life turned out for me, I ask myself if I want to change it back to the way it was supposed to be or continue living a lie.

For love is a privilege I might not find again in this lifetime and love has been denied from me in the past. No matter how I think about it, I always end up getting the short end of the stick.

A few days later, I found my answer.

I went back to the wishing well one beautiful night with a firm resolve to restore that world filled with happiness and love... changing only one thing: that my life be forfeit and rest in the knowledge that never again will I feel that green-eyed monster devouring my soul.

.o.O. END .O.o.


	3. Family Interruption

**House: Slytherin**

 **Year/Position: Year 1**

 **Category: Short**

 **Prompt: [Action] Singing in the shower**

 **Word Count: 1,453 excluding A/N and Title**

 _ **A/N: AU,OOC where Draco and Hermione are married and the Second War never happened. Thanks to my wonderful beta, Kristina!  
**_

 _ **## Judges' Pick for Round 3 ^^ Yay! ##**_

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"Ingonyama nengw' enamabala, _"_ Scorpius sang in the shower, imitating the chanting of Zulu natives. "It's the circle of life and it moves us all, through despair and hope, through faith and love!"

As he rinsed his hair, still humming to the addictive Disney soundtrack, he remembered the very first cartoon he ever watched as a kid. It was called The Lion King. His mom, Hermione, fought his gramps tooth and nail to get her own muggle house in the middle of suburban London to get away from the manor from time to time. She often brought him and his sister Lyra there since, as a kid, they weren't allowed to use magic, so their mom taught them different ways to cope without it the muggle way. Scorpius instantly fell in love with cartoons and its beautiful soundtracks. His favorite was- and still is- The Circle of Life. His dad was introduced to the wonder that is iPad and, now, he couldn't go anywhere without it.

Concerned that Draco and their grandkids are turning into muggle barbarians, Lucius and Narcissa visited the place and got acquainted with electricity. Narcissa was the first to succumb to the lure of kitchen appliances. Every weekend, she made it a point to drag the Malfoys to Hermione's muggle home to try different recipes on her dessert cookbook without the help of house elves. Soon after, Lucius admitted defeat when he tried the massage chair for the first time. He was further hooked to the muggle experience when Hermione introduced him to the stock market.

Scorpius chuckled as he remembered his gramps trying to sneak out of a board meeting to consult a Seer to predict the prices of the stocks he owned.

After rinsing the shampoo from his hair, he proceeded to vigorously scrub his body, pausing now and then to properly sing the high notes.

He was about to belt out his favorite line (the chants were the best ones) when he heard the bathroom door open. He didn't waste time and dove into the bathtub nearby and hurriedly turned on all the taps to cover his naked body.

"Who's there?!" he asked.

"Scorp?" Lyra's voice answered. "Are you going boom on the seat?"

"No, I'm in the shower. So, if you could please…" before the words were out of his mouth, Lyra drew the shower curtain aside.

Her eyes were red-rimmed and her voice was thick from crying but she flashed him a smirk. "Taking a shower, huh? I knew I smelled bath salts."

Scorpius glared at her. He was about to tell her that he didn't take baths like girls do and he was showering like a man, thank you very much, and that he only leapt into the bathtub so she wouldn't see him stark-naked, but he saw her face and his annoyance turned to concern.

"Lyra, what happened?" he asked.

She hurriedly wiped her tears, "It's nothing."

"Come on, tell me," he began but then he remembered where he was. "Er- maybe later after I'm done, though," he amended, gesturing to himself in the tub by way of explanation.

"Lyra?! Where are you? Oh, there you are!"

Lucius strode inside the open bathroom to Scorpius's mounting embarrassment.

"Uhh, hello? The bathroom is occupied, people. Please move it outside!" he protested.

"Really, Scorpius? You are so insensitive. Your sister is crying!" Lucius chastised him. "Lyra, talk to me," he said, not moving an inch. "Who made you cry? Tell grandpa and I will make them pay!"

"Gramps, it's really nothing! Tell him there's nothing wrong, Scorp!"

"You tell him, Lyra," said an exasperated Scorpius. "I'm kind of in the middle of something, you know."

"Lyra, if you don't tell me, I'm going to storm Hogwarts and find the bully myself!"

"Ugh. Gramps, someone just called me names is all, okay?" Lyra tried explaining. "It's nothing to freak on about!"

"What names?" Hermione Malfoy called outside the bathroom. "Did someone bully my daughter?"

"No, no, don't come inside- oh, great! More people- just what I need!" Scorpius exclaimed as his mother went inside the bathroom.

"Oh, hi, honey," she greeted him. "I see you take baths like your dad, too, huh." She was concealing a smile.

"He was singing, too." Lyra added, still sniffling a bit, but she was feeling better already.

"Men take baths, too, Hermione," Lucius defended him. "But that's not important. Who is thick enough to make my favorite grandchild cry like this?"

"I can hear you, gramps!" cried Scorpius.

"Oh, hush, young man," said Hermione impatiently, "Gramps loves both of you equally. He just has a very different opinion on equality." she muttered that last one to herself. It took a long time for them to get along after her marriage with Draco. Sure they came into some sort of truce after Scorpius was born but they almost always argue about societal issues. "Lyra, who is this bully I keep hearing about?"

Lyra palmed her face. "It was nothing okay? I was just playing with Parkinson when we accidentally heard someone calling me names."

"What?!" roared a very angry Draco, entering the bathroom. "No one dares mock a Malfoy!"

"It's like a freaking party," observed Scorpius drily while lounging uncomfortably underneath the pile of bubbles.

"Oh, hey there, buddy," his dad said, looking at him. "I see you finally tried the lavender bubble soap."

"Ugh!" Scorpius wanted to flush himself from the indignity of it all.

"Who is it?!" thundered Lucius, still not letting go of the subject.

Lyra sighed. "I just heard Megan Bulstrode calling me a half-breed because I'm a half-blood," she finally confessed.

"A half-breed?!" shrieked Narcissa, coming inside, too.

"And the whole family's complete. Yay me." Scorpius tried to splash them with water but it evaporated with one flick of his dad's wand. He threw his arms out in defeat.

"Nobody calls a Malfoy a half-breed!" Narcissa shrieked, ignoring him. "How dare she- I'm calling her parents!"

Before she could step out, Lyra clung to her desperately.

"Grandma, no! I can fight my own battles. I just cried because my feelings got hurt a tiny bit, but it doesn't matter, okay? I can stand up for myself."

"Aww," Hermione cooed. "My baby's growing up."

"Yeah, I'm proud that you're so matured about it, Lyra." Draco agreed. "If you need help, though, I'd be happy to teach you some hex you could throw her way- ow, ow, OUCH, WOMAN!"

Scorpius wondered what could make his dad scream like a girl and saw his mom pinching his dad's sideburns.

"Now, now," she instructed him. "Let's not teach her bad stuff, my dear." She knew of Draco's penchant for hexes because, before they fell in love, they always found themselves fighting during the heat of Inter-House competitions- especially when the quidditch season rolls around. Luckily, before anybody got permanent damage, they made-up after a detention together and everything just snowballed from there.

Lucius stubbornly frowned at her and turned back to Lyra. "I can teach you to jinx her tongue so she could only say gibberi- oh, wow, OW!" he howled in pain.

Scorpius held in a laugh. His mom just kicked his gramps on the shins.

Lucius glared at her but she put on an innocent look and shrugged.

"Lyra," Lucius tried again, but he suddenly felt a malicious intent humming in the air so he changed tack. "Honey, if somebody calls you a half-breed, correct them and tell them that you're 50 percent pureblood."

Narcissa rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, like that's going to help. Lyra, don't listen to your gramps. Come, dear, I'll teach you a few things to make her shut up."

Before Hermione could do anything, Narcissa took Lyra and ran out; presumably somewhere she couldn't disturb them.

"Hey!" Hermione ran after them, determined to raise Lyra the Gryffindor way. Draco ran after her to block the way.

Finally, it was just Scorpius and Lucius inside the bathroom.

A few seconds later, a huge bubble popped audibly, snapping Lucius to the present.

"Oh, I'm sorry Scorpius. I'll show myself out," Lucius awkwardly said.

"So… Lyra's your favorite, huh?" Scorpius sulkily blew some bubbles off his hair.

"Er- Let's talk about that after you're finished soaking in the bathtub." And with that, Lucius turned tail and walked out a little too fast.

"I'm not soaking in the bathtub!" Scorpius shouted after him. "I was taking a shower- oh, for Merlin's sake!" He gave up trying to explain and proceeded to enjoy the bath instead.

It had been a mortifying day for Scorpius, but luckily, he got something out of it. Gramps now owed him an ATV; any other form of apology would not be accepted.

 **xX END Xx**


	4. Altered

**House:** Slytherin

 **Year:** 1

 **Category:** Short

 **Prompts:** [First Line] _It was days like this where he/she/they really questioned his/her/their life choices._

[Word] _Tattoo_

 **Word Count:** 1948

 **A/N:** AU, OOC, Dark! Theme. The Prophecy about the Chosen One never happened and the First Wizarding War never came to fruition. Big thanks to my beta _**Kristina**_!

* * *

It was days like this where he really questioned his life choices. Looking at the tattoo embedded in his skin, Tom Riddle wondered how Dumbledore even accepted him as a Professor. It was an ugly mark: a huge, hulking serpent wound tight around the length of his right arm, with its head resting on the back of his hand. He wondered what came over him when he had it tattooed on his skin. Was he drunk? Was it a dare? Or was it a stupid thing he did when he was young to show how cool he could be? He tried getting rid of it before, but it never came off. It looks so stupid on a respected professor.

It was the start of term again at Hogwarts. Tom tried to recall how long it's been since he started teaching the coveted Defense Against the Dark Arts subject, but he couldn't even remember how he landed the job in the first place. With a sigh, he chalked it up to his _condition_ and uttered a spell to cover his snake tattoo.

He shook his head and smiled. How Dumbledore could overlook his many faults and still give him the honor of teaching students in his beloved Hogwarts… he couldn't even imagine it. See, when he was a kid, he was a wreck. Not surprising since he came from an apathetic orphanage. But Professor Dumbledore personally sought him out and gave him a home in Hogwarts. But what did he do as thanks? He went through all kinds of trouble with his classmates and professors; he'd even gone as far as releasing a basilisk inside the castle then put the blame on Hagrid. Of course, Tom and Hagrid made up years ago, thanks again to Dumbledore, but Hagrid seemed to have forgotten about the whole thing already. He is now a groundskeeper and Tom visits him in his hut from time to time to have tea.

Tom loved his job, although it came with all kinds of headache. Teaching kids always gave him satisfaction. He may be one of Slytherin's advisors (without Snape, he would've been Head of House) but he found a favorite in Harry Potter because, unlike the snooty Draco Malfoy, he actually liked learning spells instead of just bragging about it. Potter may be mischievous but, at least, he had Miss Granger to keep him in line. Still, Tom found her mildly irritating because she's too brilliant for her own good and that's bad for Slytherin. She kept on racking up Gryffindor house points that it rankled on his House pride. He tried to console himself that they could still win the House Cup by winning the quidditch matches but, with Potter and the Weasleys on the other team (the Keeper is quite good, too), he knew it was going to be tough.

He was afraid that Professor McGonagall, the Gryffindor Head of House, would rub it in his face again. Ever since she saw the tattoo in his arm, her prudish ways made her hate his very existence. Honestly, she was too judgmental, and for what? A _stain_ on his arm. Ridiculous. She was one of the reasons why he never forgot to glamour it first thing in the morning. Well, that, and because the students were very impressionable. He didn't want them to start thinking that these things were cool then regret it later like he had.

He looked at the mirror to check his appearance one final time before going down to the Great Hall for the Welcoming Feast, but he was taken aback when the mirror didn't reflect his actions.

Instead, _his_ _mirror self_ , with scarlet eyes, was looking at him with so much hatred and malice, mouth wide open in a silent howl of rage, blow by blow, hitting the mirror with its fists, trying to tear its way out.

Tom stumbled back in fear as blinding pain suddenly shot up in his head and he crumpled to the ground. His hands reached out to grip his head, as the room spun in a dizzying loop.

A strange consciousness slithered inside his mind, malevolently trying to assert its dominance. His head felt like exploding, and an anger so terrible overwhelmed him.

Tom immediately realized what was happening to him. This was the _condition_ the Headmaster warned him about. Another entity dwelt within him and called itself by another name. It had been years since he'd experienced an episode but the entity must've grown stronger and built an immunity against the cure Dumbledore was kind enough to send him on a regular basis.

Before his resolve failed, he managed to send a patronus to the Headmaster asking for help.

Another wave of pain assaulted his chest as the entity struggled mightily to break free and take over his body. Tom held on for as long as he could but the grip he had on his own mind was slipping.

At last, he heard Dumbledore's footsteps echoing towards his chamber, as his hold on the few tendrils anchoring him to his mind snapped.

Blackness engulfed him as the entity triumphantly snatched away the will of his being.

* * *

Dumbledore rushed to Tom's aid, but paused at the open entrance to his chamber. He saw Tom slumped weakly beside his bed.

Warily, the Headmaster went inside the room with a black cat trailing him and asked, "Tom?"

Slowly, Tom stood up and raised his head. Immediately, Dumbledore knew something was wrong- his eyes glowed crimson and filled with hatred at the sight of him.

"I am Lord Voldemort!" he declared and raised his right arm. The glamour vanished, making the tattoo visible again and it moved like a real serpent. With an accusing stare, he growled, "What have you done?!"

"Prevented a war, mostly," Dumbledore casually said, shedding his concerned demeanor, his eyes glinting coldly. "The Order heard rumors that you were amassing followers by the thousands and even reached out to werewolves and the giants- clearly, you were aiming for war."

"To purge the land from impurity!"

"By consorting with all kinds of creatures, barely sentient beings, that listens more to their instincts than their logic!" Dumbledore thundered. "I won't have you destroying the magical community with your obsessive need to avenge your mother from the failings of your muggle father!"

"Don't you dare remind me of that filthy mudblood. I am Slytherin's heir! I will rid this world of their kind and I will rule over you," he spat. "You will not keep me here, Dumbledore!"

Quickly summoning his wand, Voldemort pointed it towards Dumbledore- but before he could utter a spell, he was blasted off from where he was standing and he crashed into the wall.

Minerva McGonagall stood, where the black cat previously was, holding both of their wands.

Dumbledore, the picture of ease with hands behind his back, sneered. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, _Lord Voldemort_ ," he mocked. He uttered a spell to prevent Voldemort from moving.

Voldemort licked his lips menacingly, ignoring his bonds. "My faithful followers will come for me," he threatened. "And when they do, I will make you kneel and beg for mercy as I torture the ones you love in front of you. I will make sure they burn in pain; I will make them hate your existence and kill them all!"

Dumbledore laughed humorlessly. "It had been more than a couple of decades since I trapped you within your own mind. Do you really think your Death Eaters are still waiting for your return?" He looked at the serpent tattoo coiled to his arm. "You might have been ambitious enough to put on the mark of ancient Dark Lords, but you will never truly be one."

Voldemort, mad with fury, started spitting curses, his demented eyes full of hatred.

Looking at Voldemort's arm with disdain on her face, McGonagall asked Dumbledore, "Do you think it's still wise to keep him here in Hogwarts? Don't you think it's time we… _finish the job_?"

"Patience, Minerva. We have only destroyed three Horcruxes so far. We're still looking for the other two, so we can't… _finish the job_ yet. The closer he is, the better I could keep him in line."

"And after we destroy the last two…?"

"Then yes, we will. It's a shame, though," Dumbledore looked at Voldemort like he was appraising a dog, "he is really good at teaching."

Voldemort spat on the floor and tried to get out of his bonds. "I demand you let me go! You cannot keep me here like a caged animal!"

"You'll never get out of here. This," Dumbledore raised the vial with potion, green as poison, "ensures that."

Voldemort looked at it wildly. He recognized the potion that separated his persona into two different entities. Coupled with an Unforgivable Curse, the potion would take his weaker, softer side (easily manipulated by a magical person) and dominate his mind. He thrashed violently against his bindings, but they stunned him and he was forced to take the potion.

"There, there, poppet" McGonagall cooed. "Be a good boy again. _Imperio!"_

* * *

Tom found himself in his bed with Dumbledore sitting beside him, petting a black cat in his lap.

"Headmaster?" he called.

Dumbledore smiled at him. "Tom! How are you feeling?" his brows crinkling with concern.

"Good, Headmaster. Floaty, but good."

"I keep telling you to call me Albus, Tom," he gently reminded him.

"Oh, yeah, A-Albus," he felt warmth blossom in his chest. And in a more apologetic tone he asked, "Did I do it again?"

"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore answered, "but don't worry, your condition is stabilized now thanks to Snape's latest concoction. I think you're good to go till next month. But just in case, here," he gave him vials of green potion, the color of vibrant health, "please drink this every week so your episodes will minimize. I had it especially brewed for you in advance so you could take care of yourself when I'm not around. You need to be well to look after your students."

Gratitude swelled inside Tom as he took the vials. Only Dumbledore knew of his dissociative identity disorder, and maybe the cat, too, as it always tagged along with him. Yet, despite it all, the Headmaster still puts his faith in him. He looked at his tattoo with hate; he had a feeling that the other entity might have branded him with it, reminding him that his mind could be snatched away from him again if he wasn't careful.

"I can't thank you enough for what you're doing for me," Tom sincerely said.

"There's no need, my boy, no need," Dumbledore modestly replied. "I'm very proud of you for being such a great teacher to your students despite of your situation, so it's only right for me to do right by you." He tapped him on his shoulders encouragingly and smiled. "You take the rest of the day off. I'm sure you're secretly enjoying the peace and quiet," he joked. "Tomorrow will be tough enough for everyone."

With a wave, Dumbledore got up and left but the black cat stayed, hopped beside him and purred.

"Hi, Kitty!" Tom cooed while stroking the cat. "Isn't it great to have a master that generous? Yes, it is… yes, it is."

The black cat seemed to understand every word he said.

Tom sighed. Tomorrow is the first day of classes again. He was determined to keep the Headmaster proud of him. He resolved to live his life grateful that he'd found such a wonderful mentor, blissfully unaware that he was just an altered personality created by the man he admired.

**END**


	5. Passing the Torch

**House: Slytherin**

 **Year/Position: 1**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: [Character] Professor Pomona Sprout**

 **Word Count: 486**

 _ **Beta(s): Ash and Mari **Thank you!****_

 _ **##Judges' Pick for Round 6 ^^ Woohoo!##**_

* * *

Neville observed his favorite Professor suspiciously. Gone were the battered hat and the dirty clothes that usually garbed the squat little witch. She stood in front of the greenhouse in an immaculate yellow robe, her short, grey hair pinned neatly to the side, and her fingernails scraped clean. She was clutching a heavy-looking bag, full of her shrunken personal belongings as she scanned the place, intently drinking in the sight as if memorizing everything one last time.

He narrowed his eyes at her office table. It no longer resembled the cluttered desk, scattered with various gardening tools that he liked to organize for her. Now, it was empty of any personal effects, and the sight of it left a hollow feeling in his chest.

"You're leaving," he bit out, barely able to conceal his dismay.

"It's time," Professor Sprout answered, giving him a kind smile. "You know everything there is to know about teaching Herbology and I am confident that you will make a great teacher. I'm so proud knowing that I chose my successor well."

"I don't think I'm ready yet," he confessed nervously. "I think you should stay for a little while longer, Professor... please?"

"Boy, I'm already approaching my eighties. Besides, you've already stalled my retirement for two whole years and you've been my apprentice for four," she reprimanded him. "Stay? Bah!"

"You're turning 78 this year, that's nowhere near 80, and you're still very spry," he reasoned lamely.

"We're not discussing this again, Neville. I told you that when the next batch of Potters and Weasleys come charging down poor Hogwarts, I'd be fleeing the country," she shuddered theatrically.

Neville paled beside her. He had forgotten that this year was when Lily Potter and the Weasleys' Roxanne, Hugo and Lucy would be attending Hogwarts as first years. There were already far too many Potters and Weasleys invading the castle as it was, and it would be years before he would see any of them graduate. The staff were already betting on who'd be suspended at the very first day of classes.

"You have to stay!" he begged, suddenly feeling panicked. "I can't handle them all by myself!"

Professor Sprout just cackled and patted his hair fondly. "I'll send you postcards from my trips. Farewell, Professor Longbottom."

And with that, she left, her laugh still ringing in his ears.

She kept her word.

Every year, Pomona Sprout never failed to send him postcards, curiously sent during his most stressful moments (he never had any peace now that he's the unofficial go-to Professor of the troublemakers who trusted him to defend them from their parents and clean up their messes). The latest of which featured a picture of her in a muggle scuba-diving outfit, dancing with a tribe of mermaids under the Carribean Ocean with the words: _YOLO_ scribbled carelessly in squid ink, sending Neville into fits of laughter and thoughts of early retirement.

oxxXO End OXxxo


	6. Truth or Dare

**House:** Slytherin

 **Category:** Theme (Fluff)

 **Prompts:** _[Event] A game of truth or dare_

 **Word Count:** 2935

 **Beta:** Kristina

 **A/N:** AU **,** OOC, Set in a Fluffy Universe

* * *

"Truth or dare," Draco Malfoy asked Hermione Granger.

Hannah Abbot grinned widely, looking at them fondly from her work station. Her favorite customers were lounging in the pub again. This was why she likes Friday nights. Her favorite customers have an unspoken agreement to come to Hogshead during Friday nights, sit next to each other and drink. Maybe this time, something interesting will happen. She'd had enough of all the skirting around they do with each other when clearly, they have something going on or they wouldn't be drinking together for as long as they had.

She remembered the first night this miracle happened. It was a year and a half ago and Hermione visited the bar where Hannah worked to push her and Neville Longbottom to date already because apparently, everyone knows about the attraction they had with each other even though no one took the initiative to take the first move. In frustration, the former DA members who were still hanging out together grew too frustrated and elected Hermione to go to Hogshead and confess Neville's feelings to Hannah for him. Harry Potter did the same and went to Hogwarts where Neville taught and confessed Hannah's feelings to him for her. Hannah had gotten angry at their meddling and told her off.

Hermione didn't even stop grinning at her ire, the swot, and told her to come by her house the next day so Hannah could rant at her properly because she can't very well yell when she was still working. Hermione's _house_ turned out to be some magical wonderland where she was left alone with Neville for their first date. Hannah remembered outlining every single thing she had to say about their meddling with her love life but she never got to use it when she saw Neville in 'Hermione's house' with a look of confusion in his face, and even more confusion at the flowers he had on his hand. But when he saw her, he suddenly figured out that they had been set-up. Poor guy did his very best with what courage he got and pretended that it was his idea all along and gave her the bouquet.

They are married now, all thanks to her friends' meddling.

Hannah shook her head at her derailed memories but she fondly remembered that night when Hermione was about to leave the pub after inviting Hannah to her house the next day, Draco Malfoy came swaggering inside the bar and ordered wine. He saw her then and just couldn't resist trying to get a rise out of her. Of course, Hermione gave as good as she got and she never got to leave the bar until after Hannah told them it was closing time. The look on their faces when they realized that they just wasted the night in each other's company was priceless.

After that night, they accidentally met up again the next Friday and immediately started bickering. They met up again the next Friday just to resume their banters. It went on and on until Hannah thought she'd go insane with all the profanities they seem to reserve only for that moment.

Until one day, all the curses just stopped. Hannah became suspicious at that moment. She feared that if they didn't start cussing each other out, they might begin dueling each other instead and she was the one who will have to clean up the mess. But they remained silent, just drinking next to each other. Hannah was about to panic and call Harry and Ron when they began laughing. At first, she thought it might be a prelude to something sinister like when villains laugh when they're about to do something evil. But it wasn't. It turned out, they were laughing at a dishrag. Hannah didn't get the joke but surmised that it was a joke only drunken people laugh at.

They came back the next Friday after that mysterious dishrag fun, and they began talking amicably. That's when Hannah started becoming more guarded. All those months verbally abusing each other, she could understand. But them talking normally with each other was all kinds of weird so Hannah kept constant vigilance, yet she never heard a single swear word. That night, when she heard Hermione call her to tell her she was leaving, Hannah waved and pretended to be busy with work. Then after a few seconds, she shoved the dishrag to a fellow barmaid, ignored a customer and secretly followed after them in case somebody somehow turned up dead. But her fears were laid to rest when they parted just around the corner and went their separate ways to find apparition points.

The Friday after that, Hannah came prepared. She enlisted the help of Harry, Ron and Luna and transfigured them as wall hangings next to Hermione and Draco's usual seats. When they came, there were light-hearted banters and random conversations and all that normal stuff that keeps giving her goosebumps. When the two left and called it a night, Hannah secretly followed them again but there were no scorch marks or any decapitated limbs on their trail, so she knew that, somehow, all was well and good, though she didn't trust the good vibes to last. She went back to the pub to witness Harry and Ron looking a tad revolted while Luna dreamily told them to start planning the future Mrs. Malfoy's wedding.

The odd friendship continued to this day and Hannah was able to breathe easily as time passed, assured that they genuinely liked each other's company.

But there is something in the air around those two lately and she had been anticipating the moment when they'd finally just confess their love for one another and start making babies.

Hannah heard Hermione laugh, pulling her back to the present.

"Truth or dare?" Hermione asked him, snorting. "Do I look eight to you?"

"You're so short, you could pass for an eight-year old," Draco teased her. "Seriously though, truth or dare?"

Hermione tolerantly played along and said, "Truth."

Draco grinned and asked, "Who do you think is the sexiest person in this pub?" He licked his lips and wagged his eyebrows, anticipating a favorable answer.

Hannah was delighted at the question, thinking that maybe she'll witness the start of a beautiful ever after.

Hermione answered, "Me, of course. You'd have to be blind if you didn't see me brimming with sexiness right now."

"Wrong. Do you see yourself?" Draco asked her drily. "You're covered in sweatpants. What's sexy about that? Unlike someone who's impeccably dressed like, I don't know- me. I'm practically oozing with manly charms."

"See, with a head as big as yours to fit all that ego in, even your ass looks tiny in comparison. Now, what's sexy about that?" she disagreed.

Hannah was very disappointed at them. It seems narcissism would be a big problem in their future. How would they have a loving relationship when they're too busy complimenting themselves?

"It's called confidence, Hermione. Confidence is sexy."

"Whatever you say, Your Bigheadedness. It's my turn. Truth or dare."

"Dare."

"Kiss someone you're attracted to within this pub."

Draco kissed her full on the lips for a long second.

Hannah unconsciously bit her handkerchief at that, eyes rounded with anticipation. Surely that'd spark something!

But Hermione just laughed in disbelief. "Oh, man. I didn't see that coming! I was thinking about a scene where you get slapped for trying to kiss a stranger!"

"See? I can outsmart you anytime," Draco smirked proudly. "Truth or dare Granger."

"Truth."

"Aww, you coward."

"See? I can outsmart you, too, ferret." She said sweetly. "I don't want to know what you'd make me do."

"Alright," Draco conceded for now, smiling roguishly and said, "list five things that you like about me."

"Hmmm," Hermione scrunched her face, "I think that's more like a dare."

"Hey, it's not that hard! Just look at my awesomeness. The truth now, Hermione."

Hermione pretended to think very hard. Then she grinned and answered, "I like your big head, your tiny butt, your pointy nose, your girly hair, and your eyes."

"Wow, Hermione. Way to turn it into an insult," Draco sulked.

"Hey, those attributes _are_ insulting. Your very presence is an insult to mankind. You should never have been born perfect," Hermione amended sarcastically. "There, satisfied?"

Draco sniffed but was clearly pleased. "Well _you're_ just insulting."

Hermione flared her nose in mock anger. "I'm _physically_ insulting or _my words_ are insulting? Pick one and be wise about it or face my wrath!"

By now, Hannah stopped pretending to work and just watched them with her eyes gleaming and her fist balled over her chest, creasing her shirt, waiting for something, anything to happen.

Draco was silent for a moment, frantically trying to save himself from the pit he dug for himself. He answered slowly, "How you dress is an insult to yourself because when you try, you could be pretty like during the Yule Ball in Fourth Year."

"Aww," she teased him, letting him off the hook. "You noticed! I knew it! I saw you that time practically drooling over my goddess-like beauty. I knew I shouldn't have dolled up too perfectly because now you can't stop thinking about it all these years."

"Oh, shut up. That was the one time I saw you dress up like that, of course I'd be surprised. Not that it matters much, mind you. Even in sweatpants, you are killing it," Draco said, still trying to make amends.

"Dwaco Mawfoy woves me! Dwaco Mawfoy wikes me!" Hermione gloated in a childish tone and started making immature kissy noises.

Draco scowled in disapproval. "I shouldn't have been honest. I knew you're as big-headed as I am."

"Alright, alright," Hermione laughed at him. "Truth or dare."

"Truth."

"Hah! Name ten things that _you_ like about me!"

"I change my mind. I pick dare!"

"No backsies."

"Why ten?!" Draco groaned.

"Because I say so," Hermione replied. "It's your turn to stroke my ego."

"Very well," Draco huffed in defeat. "Um, I like your boring brown eyes, your magically shrunken teeth, that bush you call hair, your very unappealing sweatpants, your freckly nose, your humongous brain… wait, how many was that?"

"Six. Keep going."

He sighed, pretending to think with a lot of effort. "I like your chest…"

Hermione smacked his head.

"Hey! I like to look at them to remind myself that you're a girl!"

Hermione smacked his head again.

"Anyway," Draco said, putting his hand up in defense in case she wasn't done, "that was seven."

"No it doesn't count."

"I say it does."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and looked at her own chest. "Oh, hey, they ARE marvelous! Alright, go on."

"See, I told you," he continued, rolling his eyes at her, "I like your uh- Hannah, a little help here!"

"You're on your own, dude," Hannah answered without missing a beat, now unabashedly listening in on their conversation.

"I'm waiting, Malfoy," Hermione impatiently tapped the table with her fingers. "It better be good."

"Well," Draco sighed in defeat. "I like that your breath never smells bad, like ever, I mean it's like freaky minty fresh all the time…"

"It has something to do with what people call hygiene, you know," Hermione interrupted and waved her hand for him to continue.

"I like that you suck at flying."

"Hey, that's because I excel at everything else!"

"That remains to be proven," Draco argued. "And finally, I like your ass!"

Draco quickly dodged Hermione's kick and managed to swat her bum.

They laughed boisterously at their own silliness.

Hannah looked at them, fondly smiling at all the possibilities her mind is prematurely showing her. Now, to nudge things along, she asked them both, "Truth or dare?"

In unison, they answered, "Truth!" Then they looked at each other and continued laughing.

Not to be distracted, Hannah asked, "Describe your ideal romantic partners."

"Well," Hermione pondered for a bit and said, "My ideal man would be someone tall, athletic, very capable and someone who isn't drowning in debt. He must be fun to be with, because otherwise I'd be bored. I'd want my man to be someone who'd lift my mood up and someone who doesn't take himself too seriously. Oh, I want someone who will only love me as I am, even with just my sweatpants on."

Hannah leaned over the counter, expecting Hermione to realize that she just described Draco Malfoy precisely.

"But a man like that is hard to find," she shrugged. "Oh, well. Nobody's perfect."

Hannah's jaw fell on the floor. For all Hermione's brains, she was just plain clueless.

Turning to Draco instead, Hannah said, "Your turn," hoping that the guy wouldn't be as daft as Hermione.

Draco took a long swig of butterbeer and contemplated half-heartedly. "My ideal woman is someone who isn't too self-conscious with her appearance. I grow tired of looking at pureblood witches with nothing better to do than try hard to impress people with their looks when they could be doing something more productive with all the time they spend grooming themselves. I also want someone smart, kind and someone I can tease without it escalating into some major drama. I want her to love only me, obviously, and someone who could tolerate my faults."

This time, Hannah was sure that Draco would see Hermione and realize that she's his ideal woman.

"But a girl like that is rare, so I guess I'd be searching for a long time," Draco shrugged.

Hannah couldn't believe her ears. She was trying very hard not to pull her hair from frustration. She heard them continue the game until the pub's closing time and they were still clueless about their feelings for one another.

When they bid her goodnight, Hannah stopped them from leaving to invite them to her house the next day. They graciously accepted and went home while Hannah stayed up all night and gathered the former DA members and some of Draco's friends to plan for some epic meddling.

Draco and Hermione went to _'Hannah's house'_ the very next day, and were surprised when they were led to a huge, decorated hall filled with flowers and fancy table settings. Their friends Hannah, Neville, Harry, Ron, Luna, Theo, Pansy and Susan were there. Standing on a podium was Blaise Zabini who gestured for them to stand underneath a beautiful arch in front of him.

They were very puzzled but they were curious so they complied, thinking that it might be some sort of game.

After the eerie walk on what reminded Hermione suspiciously of a wedding aisle, she and Draco approached the podium, now cautiously tuning in on their surroundings, sensing a trap closing in.

Blaise began, "We are gathered here today to witness…"

"Hey, wait a minute!" Hermione yelled. "What's going on?"

"Now, now," Draco chastised her, amused at her mounting panic. "Let him finish speaking."

Blaise glared at her and continued as if he wasn't interrupted at all. "We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the start of these couple's enlightenment, to shed their cluelessness and stupidity…."

"Hey!" Draco yelled indignantly for their behalf.

"Now, now." Hermione smirked at him. "Let him finish speaking."

"… when it comes to each other's feelings."

"What now?!" they both snapped at Blaise.

"Hush, you two!" Hannah hollered from the crowd.

"You!" Hermione hissed at her.

"Yeah." Hannah grinned evilly. "Me."

"And us," all of the others chorused.

Blaise coughed to get their attention, keeping a straight face. "Now, Hermione, let me ask you a question. Truth or dare?" he asked in the formal tone of a minister.

Hermione's eyes flashed in challenge. "Dare."

Blaise said. "I dare you to date Draco Malfoy, promising to give it a go, through joy and sorrow, through good times and bad, till you fail and break up spectacularly or marry each other for the rest of your life."

Hermione blinked in surprise and looked at Draco and said, "They've gone mad. Shall we bail?"

Draco looked as shocked as she was but something in his eyes sparked then flooded with a startling realization. "Hmmm," he mused and held her eyes. "Let him finish first."

"She hasn't answered yet!" Ron yelled from the crowd excitedly.

"Accept the challenge!" Harry shouted, egging her on.

"Date him, date him, date him!" chanted their friends.

"Blaise?" said Hermione chuckling at her friends' silliness, "Ask Draco first then I'll answer." She shook her head at the absurdity of it all and yet… she can't help but wonder herself.

"Draco Malfoy," Blaise began again, "truth or dare?"

Draco winked at Hermione and flashed Blaise an easy smile, "Truth."

"Will you ask Hermione Granger out on a date, promising to give it an honest effort, to care, honor and cherish her (provided she didn't reject you outright) until she grows tired of your face and stomps your heart to pieces or till you finally man up and ask for her hand in marriage?"

The room held their breath in anticipation.

Draco slowly turned towards Hermione, held her hands and searched her eyes with a gaze so intense and softly asked, "I didn't realize it until now but I think- no- I _know_ that I've liked you for quite some time now. This might sound crazy to you, but, will you go out on a real date with me?"

Hermione was filled with warmth as she gazed back at him shyly and simply said, "Yes."

The crowd cheered deafeningly as the new, enlightened couple sealed the deal with a kiss.

**End**


	7. The Fall

**House:** Slytherin

 **Year:** 1

 **Theme:** Autumn/ Fall

 **Prompts:** [Character] The Bloody Baron

[Object] Marvolo Gaunt's Ring

 **Word Count:** 792

 **Betas:** Carol and Mari ^^

 **Warning:** Implied murder and suicide.

 _ **A/N:** Written in The Bloody Baron's POV_

* * *

Droplets of crimson blood dripped gruesomely from the ornate blade, coating his hands as he heard Helena's last gasp of breath before everything stilled into a deafening silence. The trees around them sighed in mourning and the falling leaves swirled in the restless agony of death.

He knelt beside the one he loved, mouth wide open in a silent scream as he begged and begged for her to come back. But it was too late. Her spirit had gone into the veil after he fatally wounded her with a dagger in a fit of violent rage.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Helena's mother had fallen ill after she left and stole her diadem, and Rowena sought his help to bring them back to her. He had wanted to ease her grief before her illness worsened and, if he was being honest with himself, he also wanted her favor so he could press his suit for Helena's hand in marriage.

He'd gone through a lot of trouble trying to trace where Helena had gone and, at last, he found her hiding deep inside the Albanian forest. The trees were shedding their leaves as if to shower their reunion with blessings, and he was overjoyed at the sight of her standing like a beautiful woods fairy in the middle of glorious autumn.

But with distant eyes and an even colder demeanor, she'd refused to go back with him and told him to stop his advances for she'd already pledged herself to another man.

His whole world burned at her apathy. Without even stopping to contemplate his actions, his hands went to his dagger…

… and now she was gone. Remorse overwhelmed him as he cried beside her lifeless form.

Something glinted in the fading sunlight and his eyes sparked with a crazed, desperate hope as he beheld the golden ring he had on his forefinger. It was passed down from countless generation of Peverells and eventually found its way to him, the direct descendant and heir of Cadmus Peverell himself.

Embedded on the ring was a black stone, carved with the family's coat of arms. Professor Salazar Slytherin thought it was a symbol for the mythical Deathly Hallows and that the stone on the ring was supposed to be the Resurrection Stone. They laughed about it and it became a personal joke between mentor and student. Yet, legend has it that Cadmus Peverell made a bargain with Death and was given a talisman in return.

He now looked at the ring like a man possessed. He needed the legend to come true so he could have her back and absolve himself from his crime. With a fierce hope, he turned the ring over in his hands three times.

The cold wind wailed angrily as tiny spots of lights coalesced and revealed Helena Ravenclaw standing before him.

He wept in relief and threw himself at her feet begging for forgiveness. She looked at him with hate-filled eyes and told him to send her back so she could be at peace and be free of him.

His heart broke for, even in death, she spurned him.

Suddenly, a black rage engulfed him and he violently grabbed her wrist. But he could not touch her for she came back a wraith, her mortal body still on the forest floor, bloodied and broken.

So, he put the ring back on his finger, malice overtaking his senses as he grabbed the bloody dagger and drove it to his heart.

Helena wailed in despair, for he did not send her spirit back before taking his own life and he came back to her as a ghost and haunted her in the land of the living.

Helena, horrified to spend eternity with him, fled to her mother and begged for her to find a way to send her back beyond the veil. But Rowena's illness was advancing within her and when she saw that her daughter was but a wraith, she died in grief. Rowena tried to come back to anchor Helena's spirit back to the peaceful realm but all her efforts were futile.

Heartbroken, Helena asked for her forgiveness for stealing the diadem and begged her to find peace. She let her go and saw her mother sadly depart on the train to a place forever out of her reach.

He witnessed all the pain and suffering he caused them and felt greatly ashamed for what he'd done.

Fleeing from the scene, he went back to the forest and knew that he will forever be as empty as the deciduous trees swaying dejectedly in the wind. He will never rise from his fall from grace.

Nevertheless, he vowed to pay penance for his sins for all of eternity.

_oOo_END_oOo_


	8. Experiment Gone Wrong

**House:** Slytherin

 **Year/Position:** 1

 **Category:** Short

 **Prompts:** _[Speech] "Literally everything about this is illegal."_

 **Word Count:** 1010

 **Beta:** Mags^^

 **A/N:** Slightly OOC 

* * *

"Are you ready?" asked Hermione. 

"Hold up, Hermione." Harry stalled. "Are you absolutely sure this is safe?" 

"I'm not the brightest witch in this generation for nothing, Harry." 

Ron rolled his eyes. "Remember the disaster you had with the polyjuice potion?" 

"That was an unfortunate accident, Ron, not a failure on my potion's part." Hermione stuck her nose in the air and sniffed. "The brew worked perfectly. I just blundered on another matter which was completely irrelevant to my skills as a potion maker." 

Harry looked uncertainly at the vials of liquid. "Hermione, this is an advanced potion we're talking about. You said that it will create a psychic link between the three of us so we could communicate with each other at will. I need to know that this won't mess up our brains." 

"Trust me, I know I brewed it perfectly. Don't worry." 

Ron raised an eyebrow at her. "Literally everything about this is illegal." 

"Stop being a wuss, both of you. You were the ones who roped me into breaking the rules," Hermione reminded them. "Don't you want to win the war against Voldemort? His powers are formidable enough that if we don't take advantage of every possible thing that could make a difference between victory and defeat, I'd lose my head and beat myself up for not trying hard enough. This _is_ illegal but everything's fair in love and war. Just because we're on the side of good doesn't mean we can't fight dirty." 

Ron raised his hands in a placating manner. "Alright, alright. This could also help me during exams anyway. I'd just shoot you a question through the link and you can provide me the answers." 

Hermione shot him a stern look. "This mind link isn't for cheating, Ron." 

"At any rate, I don't think we'll be sitting for exams when Voldemort decides to strike," Harry commented drily. "Alright, since this thing could be useful when we can't communicate aloud to plan an escape or plot an attack, I say we try it. This is just a test run, right, Hermione?" 

"It is," she replied. "The effects will last for ten minutes only. If it is successful and we're all comfortable with it, we can go ahead and solidify the mind link." 

"And if it isn't?" asked Ron. "Will it melt our brains?" 

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. Just trust me." 

Hermione handed them each a vial and drank the potion. After a few seconds, all of them started 'hearing' each other's thoughts. 

_Please don't melt my brain, please don't melt my brain!_

 _ **It's working! I am brilliant! I think I should try brewing more complicated potions for extra credit…**_

 **This is weird; I can hear both of you. Aren't we supposed to hear the thoughts we want to send out instead of hearing every single thing we are thinking?**

 _Oh, Merlin! Are you saying that all of my thoughts are being broadcasted unfiltered? This is bad…_

 _ **Oh, no. I must've made a mistake. We aren't supposed to hear everything! I'm a failure! What went wrong?**_

 **Stop panicking, Hermione! And please stop thinking. It hurts my head! Do you have to think about potion ingredients and your next Transfiguration essays?**

 _Blimey_ _! Hermione's mind is worse than all the Professors prattling away all at the same time! Get me out of your overworked head! I didn't sign up for lectures! My head! My poor, blissfully ignorant head! Harry, you better shut her off!_

 **You can't turn off the brain, Ron. And stop thinking about your fantasies about Hermione, you perv! Get your gutter brain off my radar!**

 _ **My, God! I can't think from all the stupidity coming off of you boys. And Harry, stop thinking about this nonsense about Cho versus Ginny. Just pick one, you dolt! Pick Ginny. Cho is a snob.**_

 **Stop snooping in on my brain, Hermione!**

 _Harry, I'm going to kill you! You like my sister?! And Hermione! Stop thinking about Draco Malfoy. For your information, he's not interested with girls._

 _ **What?! I'm not interested with Malfoy!**_

 **You better not be.**

 _ **Oh, Harry, I didn't know you like him, too!**_

 **Shut up! I don't like him! YOU like him! Ron, mate, stop whining! Hermione's not that into Malfoy.**

 _What is so great about him! Ferret face, hmph!_

After the ten-minute test run was up, they stopped hearing each other's thoughts. For a few heartbeats, no one said anything. 

"Er-" Harry, began. "Maybe this psychic link won't help us after all." 

"Agreed," Ron said. "I, umm, I think this will be more to our disadvantage…" 

"I don't understand!" Hermione lamented. "It wasn't supposed to be like that. We weren't supposed to hear everything the other was thinking– just the words we want to send to each other!" 

"Well, I don't think I'd try it a second time… too much information," Harry said awkwardly. 

It was just ten minutes of hearing their friends' thoughts and yet they've discovered more about each other than they could have talking to one another for years. It was painfully embarrassing and very intrusive. 

"Don't worry, Hermione." Ron patted her back. "We'll find another way to gain advantage over old Voldy. With both of us in Harry's side, nothing could go wrong!" 

"That's right," Harry agreed. "Besides, we are already training with the DA members. We are learning more spells and we are getting stronger. It's all thanks to you, Hermione. You don't have to over-exert yourself; you've done more than enough already." 

Hermione, consoled, beamed at them. "Thank you, guys! I love you both so much!" 

"But me more than Harry, right?" Ron asked expectantly. 

"Right," Harry snorted. "Why don't you worry about Draco Malfoy? Apparently, he's your competition." 

"And you're my competition for Malfoy, hmm, Harry?" Hermione giggled. 

"Hey!" both guys protested loudly. 

As they bantered the night away, Hermione began thinking of another illegal unsupervised experiment and vowed to redeem herself from the mind link disaster… And to find a way to topple the Dark Lord from his reign of terror, of course. 

|*|*|*| END |*|*|*|


	9. Painting Pain

**House:** Slytherin

 **Position/Year:** 1

 **Category:** Drabble

 **Prompts:** _[First Line]_ When he/she/they walked in, paint was everywhere but the canvases.

 **Word Count:** 493

 **Beta:** Mari^^

 _ **A/N:** Could be AU. ## Judges' Pick for Round 9 ^^ ##  
_

* * *

When he walked in, paint was everywhere but the canvases. His heart constricted at the sight as he warily crept closer to where little Luna was sitting, her blank eyes staring far away.

Every day since she witnessed her mother's death, nine-year old Luna would always go to the fire-blackened shed where it happened and try to paint. Each day before sunset, Xenophilius Lovegood would find her sitting very still on her wooden stool with a blank canvas and the same colors- yellow, orange, and blue- carelessly splattered everywhere in the room. And every single time, he would be reminded of how the flames had consumed his beloved Pandora while his daughter stood unseeingly into the fire, horror etched on her lovely, innocent face.

He had wanted to destroy the shed and had nearly succeeded. But Luna had wept and screamed for him to leave it alone and he couldn't bear the agony in her eyes so he'd stopped; even if it hurt to see it all the time and be reminded of what he'd lost.

He ached to comfort her, even as he himself grieved. But people grieve in different ways. Luna had stopped talking, retreating deep inside herself to where he can't reach her.

Weeks had gone by, and still, she went to the shed, placed a blank canvas at the center of the room, splashed the walls with yellow, orange and blue- the color of fire- surrounding herself once again with the phantoms of her past.

He decided that it had gone long enough this time and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "Enough, Luna. Stop doing this to yourself anymore."

She didn't even move.

Steeling himself for a confrontation ahead, he said, "I will destroy the shed tomorrow."

Luna snapped her head back at him, though her eyes were still far away, and muttered in a tiny voice, "Did you know?"

Xenophilius' chin trembled. He knew, but asked anyway. "Know what, my child?"

"It was me. It was all my fault."

He couldn't help the tears that fell from his anguished eyes. "It was an accident, Luna."

He couldn't tell her that it wasn't her fault.

They both knew the truth.

"I want to die," she whispered brokenly.

Cold fear shot through his chest. His grip on her shoulders tightened as he fiercely held her eyes to his own, forcefully drawing her out from the depths of her mind. "Don't say that ever again!" he scolded her, his voice trembling. "I'm still here, Luna," his voice broke. "I'm still here."

She looked at him with sorrow that shouldn't be seen in a child- and finally wept, holding her father in remorse and shame.

The next day, the shed was nowhere to be found, and the canvas was bright with strange, painted mythical creatures.

Xenophilius smiled in relief and helped her name all the creatures she drew and spun a wonderful tale about each one as she listened contentedly.

.oO END Oo.

* * *

 _ **A/N: It's my head cannon that Luna had a hand on her mom's death whether accidentally or deliberately (I like the idea of a Dark!Luna) and his father encouraged her to believe in non-existent creatures to distract her from thinking about her part on her mom's death. I think that Luna being odd is deliberate to keep her father happy. Her father always worries that she will develop a suicidal tendency so he would always tell her far-fetched stories to keep her mind busy solving these non-realistic theories like the Rotfang Conspiracy. His father also publishes the Quibbler so he possibly could've covered what truly happened about the**_ **acciden** _ **t and also made stories up to continue amusing his daughter. His love for her is obviously deep and a bit misguided. Though, by encouraging creative thinking (more like wacky thinking) Luna was sorted to Ravenclaw.**_


	10. Behind Closed Doors

**House:** Slytherin

 **Position/Year:** 1

 **Category:** Drabble

 **Prompts:** _[Object] No Entry Sign_

 **Word Count:** 500

 **Beta:** Kristina ^^

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Molly Weasley asked the twins who were lurking outside their brother's room. They were looking intently on the 'No Entry' sign plastered on the door.

"Why, mom, don't you find it curious that Ronniekins went out of his way to inform us that he doesn't want to be disturbed?" asked Fred, not taking his eyes off the sign.

"Yeah, it's like a beacon just begging to be explored…" George agreed.

"Leave your brother alone, you busybodies! There must be a reason why he put that sign up. Now, get!"

"Now, now, mother. Aren't you concerned that he's cavorting with a girl?"

"Cavorting? Inside my home? Ron?"

"Maybe it's Hermione; or Lavlav…"

"Well, let's leave them to it, then," she snorted, unconvinced.

"How scandalous, Mother Dearest!" George squealed, feigning heart attack. "Did you leave your morals somewhere in the kitchen?"

Molly rapped him in the head. "It's Ron. If he's inside the room with a girl, I'll die happy."

"Gross, mom! But, hey, since it's alright-"

"Don't even think about it!"

"If Ron can, then we can, too!" George stubbornly insisted.

"It's only fair," Fred argued.

"Oh, alright." Molly threw her hands up in defeat. "Go ahead, break the door open. But if your brother never gets married, it's all on you."

Fred and George smirked evilly and proceeded to break the wards from the door.

A few minutes later, they slammed the door open and burst in with their eyes closed.

"Stop in the name of Chastity!" Fred yelled.

"Put on your clothes, children!" George added, still keeping his eyes shut. "You are hereby charged to hear The Talk from Mommy Dearest."

Molly rolled her eyes and went straight ahead and saw Ron sleeping deeply, his face tear-stained and puffy.

"Oh, the poor dear," she fretted.

"What- what is it?" asked Fred, still not willing to risk opening his eyes.

"Your brother had been weeping!"

The twins opened their eyes and looked at Ron's sleeping form, the Daily Prophet torn to pieces around him.

"Huh, I guess the Chudley Cannons lost again," George said, holding a crumpled picture of the Chudley Cannons' Seeker, dejectedly looking over the celebrating Ballycastle Bats team.

"Why does he even root for them? They never win. Ever," Fred scoffed.

"Why?" Molly cried. "Why is my son a sad, sad…"

"Loser?"

"Watch your words! It's your brother we're talking about here... but, yeah."

Fred sighed, disappointed. "Well, this is a bust."

"I guess, not every 'No Entry' sign have something intriguing behind it," George muttered.

After giving Ron pitying looks, they left quietly and shut the door behind them.

Magically, Ron's sleeping form suddenly vanished as the real Ron emerged nervously from the closet.

"Are they gone?" asked someone from inside the same closet.

"Yeah. Come on out!"

A disheveled Pansy Parkinson crawled out of it and grinned. "We really need to meet somewhere else."

"That we do," Ron replied, all the while looking at her lips. "Now where were we?"

.o.O. END .O.o.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Gred and Forge forevah!**

 **It's the Last Round! I want to thank the Houses Competition forum and my amazing**

 **Slytherin family. You motivated me to write an adventure about _a world I close my eyes to see_. **

**(from _A Million Dreams_ lyrics, The Greatest Showman OST) ******ꜛ****


	11. The Journey Home

**House:** Slytherin

 **Position/Year:** 1

 **Theme:** Achieving a goal.

 **Prompt:** Getting sucked into a new world.

 **Word Count:** 2984

 **Beta:** Mari

 _ **A/N:**_ _Written in Sirius Black's POV._ _AU/OOC where Sirius Black wasn't hit by a killing curse by Bellatrix but was blasted towards The Veil instead._

* * *

For a long time, I fell, or at least I thought I did. I couldn't really tell if I was being sucked upwards so much as falling backwards… or was I floating? I tried not to panic. Pure darkness was my company, and I was sure I'd gone blind. It didn't make a difference whether I opened or closed my eyes. All I saw was darkness.

My thoughts were racing as I pondered what would happen next.

What if nothing happened because I was dead? If I was, what would happen to my godson? Was he mourning for me while the Dark Lord hunted him? Or was I alive somewhere, barely clinging on to life? Was this what being in a coma felt like?

My head hurt and my limbs felt numb. Falling through The Veil had been a terrible idea. What will James and Lily think of me now? I had sworn to protect Harry for them, but I'd failed spectacularly.

But honestly. How much harm could The Veil really have done?

Still, it had looked like an ominous, swirling vortex of doom… so yeah, somehow I'm certain that I'm pretty much toast.

What if I was trapped in here forever?

Before my thoughts spiralled out of control, I took a deep breath and tried transforming into my animagus self to borrow the peace that comes from a dog's simple emotions.

Only, my magic didn't seem to work.

I began hyperventilating. I was on the verge of a panic attack.

Before it turned into a full-blown adult hissy fit, I forced my mind to keep track of time instead. It helped a little. But, then, I lost count after several minutes or hours… days, months, years- it doesn't really matter. Time and space didn't seem to make sense here.

I gave up counting.

I thought I'd fall forever.

Trying to sleep while falling (or floating) in the blackness was like having vertigo and heart palpitations at the same time. But I wanted to forget the gnawing hunger in my stomach, and I couldn't exactly summon even one Bertie Bott's puke-flavored bean, so I tried anyway.

It just made me nauseous.

It felt like an eternity of dreaming and waking and puking and blasting The Three Witches hit songs at the top of my lungs had passed before I finally saw a burst of light.

And I was diving head-first towards it. Falling- I was definitely falling!

The light grew brighter and I began to feel warm. I would have felt grateful for the warmth had it not been for a passing thought that I was surely hurtling towards Hell.

The blackness disappeared as the light grew stronger. Faster and faster I fell, and I couldn't help releasing a high-pitched scream that would have given Bellatrix a run for her money.

But as the ground drew closer, my descent slowed until my hands touched the surface.

I wouldn't even question the lack of splatting and was just relieved to be alive. Wait. I was still alive, right? I tapped my body to see if I was still solid and looked out for missing limbs. So far, I was still whole and intact. Definitely not ghostly. I sighed in relief. Second-guessing myself was draining.

I lay down, trying to get my bearings as I looked at the sky. The blackness was nowhere to be seen, but there are stranger things in the sky. The sun was up somewhere, brightening the place, but what shocked me most were the three large intersecting moons hanging above me. And the sky… it was a different color. It was supposed to be blue. But it was yellow, streaked with clouds of blue, green and purple.

I was instantly on alert as I stood up, looking for anything hostile. From what Lily had told me of muggle movies, this must be one of those alternate dimensions where people- who usually never lasted long enough to live after reaching it- got lost. According to her, there were two types of aliens: the kind ones and the murderous ones. In the movies, people usually encountered the latter.

But the place where I fell was a vast wasteland and I nearly wept in dismay. Where were the stunning floating islands and the weird-looking inhabitants? Where were those kind aliens who took lost people in and helped them home? There weren't even bugs here.

I felt my pockets for my wand, but I remembered losing it before I fell through The Veil. Dammit.

According to Lily, thank Merlin I paid attention to her random chatters more than I thought I would, a few people managed to go back to their own world through a portal or something. It was all theoretical because no one really proved that an alternate dimension exists, but now that I was in one, I figured I'd try my luck and find that portal.

So, I started walking. I was barely keeping it together, but I walked. If there was any chance that I could go back to my world, I'd search for it until my dying breath. I touched funny looking rocks, hoping that it would serve as some sort of portkey to transport me back home and out of this weird place. I searched for hidden doorways, caves (there weren't any, not even a hillock), and even poked my head inside the hollow of a dried up tree. Still, nothing.

Now, I wasn't so sure that I liked walking more than falling. My feet sprouted blisters, my chest heaved in exhaustion, and if I'd perspired any more, blood would be the next thing dripping out of my body. Looking for water became a priority.

I hadn't realized that the vista changed after miles and miles of walking until I tripped on a bush. My dazed mind cleared as I face-planted on something wet. My heart leaped as I stared ahead of me and saw bushes of exotic berries. The wet thing on my face was a juicy-looking purple berry, squashed by my fall.

Before caution caught up with me, I was stuffing my face with purple berries, moaning in delight as I tasted the sweetest, juiciest fruit I've ever eaten.

After I filled my belly, I lay down, too exhausted to worry about my safety, and was asleep before my head touched the ground.

* * *

I thought I wouldn't, but I woke up sometime later. The three moons where now spread out throughout the darkening sky and the first thought I had was that it was beautiful at night. The stars, white as it should be, were never still. The night was raining falling stars. It was magnificent.

But then, I remembered my goal. However beautiful the night was here, it wasn't home.

So I got up and walked. After eating the berries, which were thankfully non-poisonous, and getting some sleep, I found I could think more clearly and tried focusing my mind to do a little wandless magic.

It didn't work.

I tried transforming into Padfoot to cover more ground without getting tired too easily. Still, nada.

I tried and tried to do simple spells to help me on my quest to find a way back to Harry, so I could help him defeat a noseless old fart bent on conquering the Wizarding World, but it was useless. Magic didn't seem exist on this side of the universe.

So I did what I had wanted to do for the longest time: crumple down and cry. It was an ugly, bitter, but manly men cry all the same.

I consoled myself of the fact that I was still alive, Harry was still alive- I hope- and no creatures had eaten me yet. Come to think of it, I'd only seen plants and trees here and there. I'd yet to come across alien life-forms. Maybe they were watching me right now, enjoying my misery.

I shuddered. On second thought, I shouldn't have paid any attention to Lily's ramblings about muggle movies about aliens. At James' urging, she once made me watch 'Alien' on some kind of muggle contraption, and years later, I still had nightmares about big, disgusting, insect-looking aliens that attached itself on humans to feed.

That was more or less two decades ago, but I'd still rather watch that movie again and again than be stuck in this depressing, lonely place, even if the night sky looked amazing. Even if those purple berries were heavenly.

With a heavy sigh, I stopped myself from crying too much, imagining James and Remus laughing at me for being such a ninny, and began gathering berries and shoving them in my pockets in case I didn't see any more food while I looked for those tricky portals.

I hoped those portals were real. Otherwise, I'd be stuck here for who knows how long.

Ugh. I might die sooner than expected anyway; berries aren't a great substitute for water. I was thirsty, more so now that I'd eaten. The tang of berries was making me more parched.

Hoping that it'd lead me to a water source, I followed the patches of pink grass and the bushes full of berries.

After hours and hours of walking, I cried in relief when I saw a thin stream of water flowing towards a small river. I didn't hesitate to sprint towards it and drink deeply. It was sweet and cool. Slightly greenish, but I'd take what I could get.

Feeling giddy and refreshed, I waded towards the deeper part of the river to scrape the grime off my body and to get rid of that god-awful smell that I realized was me.

After swimming for a while, something tugged at my curiosity.

A familiar swirl of blackness was lodged inside the river's depths. I dived to the bottom to investigate and saw the exact replica of The Veil! This was it: my ticket back home!

I resurfaced to the shore and took a deep breath, readying myself to dive back in, but I hesitated. What if I fell again in the never-ending darkness? I don't want to be subjected to that horror again. The loneliness, numbness and the feeling of disorientation was something I'd rather not repeat.

But if The Veil was a portal, then I could find my way back home. It was my only option. And Harry was waiting for me.

The thought of my godson steeled my resolve and renewed my determination.

After sealing the pockets full of berries as best as I could, I drank greedily from the river once more and regarded the bizarre world empty of sentient beings one last time before diving towards the river's depths into the swirling darkness.

* * *

I didn't know what I'd expected, but I definitely didn't expect to emerge inside a white, marbled hallway that stretched so long I couldn't see the end of it. On both sides were numerous identical doors, spaced evenly from one another.

Curious, I opened the first door to my right, careful to keep a step away from the entrance.

What I saw blew me away.

It was like seeing a whole planet in a general view and yet, if I focused my eyesight on one place, I could clearly see everything that was going on in that specific region.

What I saw was a dying planet. The sun was red and over large. There were no people or animals left, save for the rotting carcasses littering the ground. There were a few plants struggling to fight a losing battle, as little by little, they too were consumed by death and decay.

I shut the door closed, not wanting to see more.

After a few beats, comprehension caught up with me and I instinctively knew that these doors were pathways leading to different worlds… and one of them would open the way for me back home.

Finally, my goal was in sight.

The sheer number of doors was daunting. The task of finding the right doorway was already making me nervous, but I was willing to open all of it until I stumbled across the right one.

I hoped the other worlds were better than the last one. I was already depressed as it is.

I opened the door to my left and I knew immediately that it wasn't my world. The sky and the place were normal-looking, but the inhabitants looked more like blue tigers than humans. They were standing perfectly on two legs, but they had a feral look to them that made my skin crawl.

I went on opening and closing doors one after the other, only to be disappointed again and again. At this rate, I'd die an old man before I could even get to the right one- provided I didn't die of hunger first.

On the 562nd door, I almost gave up. My knees were starting to wobble and my right arm was angrily protesting at being used so much. But I kept on going before I lost all hope.

The Hallway of Doors, as I brilliantly called this place, was clean, but no food or water was in sight. One would've thought that the Architect of such pathways to infinite worlds wouldn't forget such basic necessities, but the jerk did. I would like to know where to lodge a complaint.

On the 700th door, I'd come to appreciate the things I'd seen even more. I was sure that no other humans before me had the privilege to see what I had, so to take my mind off my grumbling stomach, I lingered at every door I opened and took in the sights of these peculiar worlds while I ate the berries I took with me.

On the 2921st door, I was ready to eat someone. But nobody was present to indulge me, so I didn't have any choice but to keep on going. So far, I'd seen real sea serpents, little people living on tree houses, fair people with pointy ears, birds with fangs, a world with rainbow-colored waterfalls, a perfect but robotic community, a dark world festering with huge molds, bugs the size of horses and so on. I couldn't wait to go back home and lead Old Voldy to where the cannibalistic snake people live. He'd be at home with their kind.

I was losing hope and was on the edge of another crying jig because I had only one berry left (the fruit was good and all but I was so fed up with it that looking at it made me feel pure, unadulterated hate) when, at long last, I saw the door towards my world. I made sure to see if London was as I know it was and not crawling with vampire overlords. After I multiple-checked that it was indeed my world, I looked for the Department of Mysteries and located The Veil.

Eagerly, I stepped through the door.

* * *

The room where The Veil spat me out was quiet save for the scratching of quill where an Unspeakable was writing, his back from me. Funny, their uniforms looked more refined than I remembered it.

I coughed to get his attention and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Who- who are you?" he asked warily, whipping his wand out, impressively fast and alert.

"I'm Sirius Black," I announced, raising my hands up to show him that I meant no harm. "I figured out a way to come back after I was blasted through that thing." I pointed towards the Veil and he gasped in astonishment.

"You're _the_ Sirius Black?"

"Yes, yes," I answered impatiently. "If you would please just take me out of here, I'd appreciate it. I know that the Department of Mystery is more hazardous than the plague so I need you to keep me safe. I lost my wand and I need to look for my godson, Harry Potter, before he does something stupid and get killed by Voldemort. Also, if you'd be so kind as to bring me food that is anything but berries, I'd be very indebted to you. And water, please. Lots and lots of water."

He continued gaping at me.

Oh, no. I forgot I was a hunted criminal! "Umm, on second thought-"

"No, no!" he replied, finally composing himself. "I just- it's- when did you say you got thrown inside the Veil?"

"June 1996," I replied. "Why? Is the War over?" I began panicking again. If it was over… "Who won? Is Harry still alive?"

The man's face fell and dread began to fill my chest.

"Harry Potter is dead."

A gasp escaped my lips, the news felt like a massive punch to the gut. A lump lodged in my throat and breathing became difficult. I couldn't believe I failed him!

"No, no! You misunderstood," the man continued, conjuring a glass and filling it with water from the pitcher on his desk. "Harry Potter won the War, Voldemort was long gone… but so was The Boy Who Conquered. See, he won the War a hundred and fifty years ago. He died from old age."

Shocked, my legs collapsed from under me. So many years had passed while I was gone.

I achieved my goal. I was home. But I returned to a world where everyone I knew was gone.

Dammit. I have to wait for myself to die so I could reunite with him. I had a lot of explaining to do. James and Lily would be so pissed by now that I took so long…

The Unspeakable was instantly by my side, kind enough to prop me up in a steady grip and drew the glass of water to my lips.

Water!

As I swallowed greedily in huge gulps, he said, "By the way, I'm Henry Sirius Potter. Harry Potter was my great, great grandfather."

He smiled at me warmly as water spilled from my mouth.

.o.O. END .O.o.


End file.
